[It's-- ...something entirely new, this feeling, this experience. Once, long ago, he had recognized the feelings of --and for-- the Zora princess Mipha, one of his dearest childhood friends, too late to respond or reciprocate. He has a tendency to turn his back on those things, to focus on duty and action rather than feeling or emotion. It's not as though he does not feel. More accurate to say that he does not know what to do with the depths of those feelings...
His conscious mind seems to shut down, in this moment, relying on instinct. Relying on the parts of his heart that normally take a backseat. Her hands on his chest, the feel of her so close in his arms-- if he were thinking about it, it might terrify him, the connotation of those things. What they mean about him, about them, about the future. For now, he desperately does not want to think about any of it, he just wants this moment to be, unrestrained, unfettered by whatever comes next.
Love, longing, adoration, dedication, friendship, destiny-- none of it matters. For now, for this moment, they are both here, and whatever it is they are sharing, it's deeper than words. It's deeper than anything he's ever felt, conscious or not. He cannot name it, and yet right now, he knows that it is the most important thing in the world. His arms around her are as firm and as confident as her kiss. If he could hold this moment for all time, he would. If he could never let go, it would be too little of her in his arms.
He barely pauses for breath, drawn to her as she is to him. He must let go, eventually. He must let her go eventually. But, for all his strength and courage and whatever meaningless values of heroism people assign to him, he cannot seem to pull away, drawn into her orbit by the undeniable gravity of his feelings for her.]
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His conscious mind seems to shut down, in this moment, relying on instinct. Relying on the parts of his heart that normally take a backseat. Her hands on his chest, the feel of her so close in his arms-- if he were thinking about it, it might terrify him, the connotation of those things. What they mean about him, about them, about the future. For now, he desperately does not want to think about any of it, he just wants this moment to be, unrestrained, unfettered by whatever comes next.
Love, longing, adoration, dedication, friendship, destiny-- none of it matters. For now, for this moment, they are both here, and whatever it is they are sharing, it's deeper than words. It's deeper than anything he's ever felt, conscious or not. He cannot name it, and yet right now, he knows that it is the most important thing in the world. His arms around her are as firm and as confident as her kiss. If he could hold this moment for all time, he would. If he could never let go, it would be too little of her in his arms.
He barely pauses for breath, drawn to her as she is to him. He must let go, eventually. He must let her go eventually. But, for all his strength and courage and whatever meaningless values of heroism people assign to him, he cannot seem to pull away, drawn into her orbit by the undeniable gravity of his feelings for her.]